


A Trial Run

by robotfvckers



Series: Morale Boost [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Dirty Talk, Group Sex, M/M, Threesome - M/M/M, Voyeurism, mentions of other characters in a sexual context, valve mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-05
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2019-03-13 21:57:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13579719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robotfvckers/pseuds/robotfvckers
Summary: Angelo's training nears its end, and Jesse's the first to sample the fruits of his labor.





	A Trial Run

**Author's Note:**

> Another comm for more Angelo lovins. Hope you enjoy!

****“Excellent.”

Zenyatta withdraws the long, thick toy from between Angelo’s thighs with a satisfying pop, testing his soft, puffy rim with cool fingers, a final, bone-deep shiver escaping the large man trembling on the cot.

“I believe you are ready.”

The last two months had been awkward, but necessary (and too pleasurable by far). Angelo is no stranger to his body’s limits, but to have been tested, _trained_ for something so intimate warms his face, even now.

“Really? I…I’m still a bit unsure about the whole...group thing.”

The monk hums as he cleans him up, orbs chiming and rolling languidly.

“I can understand your reservations. The lead-up to my first group was harrowing.”

“ _You_ were nervous?” Angelo says, sitting up, watching Zenyatta flit about like he had not played with his ass for the better part of an hour, the delicious ache of which is just beginning to settle.

“I was not programmed for such things, nor outfitted. Calibrating was...an experience.”

“What happened?”

Zenyatta draws a finger along his golden chin, array brightening.

“I overloaded from the feedback. It hard reset my systems while they were having me.”

The way Zenyatta recalls it sends a hot twist through his guts.

“Good?”

“Frighteningly so.” Zenyatta nods. “But I would prefer to start you off easy. It is more difficult to fix a human.”

“I don’t know...you’d be surprised at how hardy we can be.”

“I do not doubt it.” He can hear the smile in Zenyatta’s voice. “But let us start small, all the same.”

* * *

The other agents draw names when word of Angelo’s clearance reaches them. An eagerness had taken hold as soon as the good doctor’s brother joined their ranks, and it had only grown since.

Luck had smiled upon Jesse, and he arrives early for once, excitement swirling in his normally relaxed eyes. The room is Angelo’s choice, small but warm and comfortably furnished; dim lights cast the room and its occupants in a rosy hue.

“Evenin’.” He says, smokey and low, the smell of old leather and tobacco clinging to him.

“Hey, there.” Angelo replies too quietly, and a bright flush colors his cheeks.

“That’s the kind of reaction a man could get used to.”

Angelo squirms. His normal uniform had been traded in for something much simpler: a form-fitting button-up, opened from throat to stomach and a pair of silky shorts that stop just below mid-cheek, allowing Jesse to drink in his thick, muscular thighs.

“Will you be joining us too, doll?”

Zenyatta stays folded on the seat near the bed, far enough away to give them room to maneuver but close enough to see.

“I am here to witness and instruct, if needed.” Zenyatta says.

“Damn shame.”

Zenyatta laughs.

“The depth of your appetites is truly an astounding thing.”

Jesse’s expression turns absolutely wolfish.

“Can you blame me when I got such lovely companions?” Jesse removes his hat and serape, setting them on the table; his boots are kicked off moments after.

Angelo looks ready to hop from foot to foot. He hovers near the bed, glancing between it and Jesse. The gunslinger doesn’t let him sweat for long, closing in as he gives Angelo another once over, easy smile balanced on his lips.

“Ya look great, darlin’.” Though Angelo’s a little taller, a little broader, he feels small and fluttery next to Jesse. His heart thunders as the man’s calloused hand captures his chin, easing him into a kiss.

He could not practice this with Zenyatta, but Jesse does not let him stumble. It’s chaste, at first, warm and dry, then his metal fingers thread into his ponytail, earning a breathy gasp that lets him slide deeper. Jesse strokes his tongue against his, mapping his mouth so slowly it mesmerizes him, nipping his lip as he pulls back. The next kiss is hungrier, has want pulsing in Angelo’s stomach even before Jesse withdraws again, a line of saliva breaking between them as they catch their breath.

“That’s all you, huh.” Jesse whispers, stroking Angelo’s chin absently, the consistency keeping some semblance of calm over the rush of sensations twisting through Angelo’s body. He can only cast his eyes down, mind reeling as Jesse maneuvers him like he’s fragile.

“Don’t know how you can still blush after Zen’s worked ya over so fine. ‘S cute.”

Angelo laughs once, a quiet huff, before a thumb cresting his lower lip steals his breath.

“What...do you want me to do?”

“Let me see what you’ve learned with that mouth of yours.” Jesse murmurs, taking a seat on the bed as if he belonged there.

Angelo nods almost dreamily, dropping to his knees between Jesse’s spread thighs.

“Unzip me?”

“Jesse, do not tease him so.” Zenyatta tuts, though he doesn’t sound annoyed.

“You will, won’t cha darlin’?” Jesse smiles down at him, and Angelo swallows, tongue thick and useless in his mouth.

“Y-yeah.”

Angelo does, the jingle of his belt buckle and the sound of the zipper drawn down ringing in his flushed ears.

His jumbled thoughts halt completely as he reveals the bulge in Jesse’s boxers. He’s large, even like this, the flaccid roundness of it making his grip tighten on Jesse’s thighs as he leans in without instruction. He presses his lips against his cock, blinking rapidly, the subtle smell so different than Zenyatta, spiced and masculine. Angelo drags his tongue against the cotton, swiping a long, wet line across his balls, muffling his moan into the fabric while Jesse preens.

“You like that? Is this your first human cock?”

“It..it’s not.”

He breathes into his thigh, burrowing back in, mouthing at the cock that begins to twitch and fill before his eyes. The smell of him intensifies; Angelo tastes cotton and sweat and skin as his saliva dampens the fabric, kissing and lapping between his legs. He’s gasping by the time Jesse’s cock strains against his boxers, a hard, fat line along his inner thigh.

“What a service.” Jesse croons, eyes thinning. “Gimme a little more, yeah?” Jesse shifts his organic hand over his soft, swarthy middle, shifting his boxers down inch by inch, the base of his cock exposed, then the rest of it, swollen and heavy, bobs in front of Angelo’s lips. “Open up. Let me see your tongue.”

Angelo makes a sound deep in his throat, letting his mouth hang open, tongue presented, pretty and pink. Jesse grasps the base of his cock with a quiet sound of his own, taps the swollen tip against the hot muscle of Angelo’s tongue, wetting it, savoring the sensation of silken heat. Jesse hums, closing his eyes for a moment, saliva catching between cock and tongue.

“Did Zen show you what he’s got under his panel? Must’ve, right? Damn, would’ve paid to watch you take his pretty cock.”

“Surely we will work together when we are further along in Angelo’s training.”

Angelo has no idea how a synth can sound so dirty, but Zenyatta manages in spades. He closes his eyes, the salty bitterness of pre-cum the final crack in his nervousness. Unbidden, he suckles Jesse’s cock, dipping his tongue inside the tight foreskin, hollowing his cheeks as his fingers scrabble against Jesse’s thighs.

“There you go, kid. Feels good.” Jesse’s fingers card through Angelo’s hair, twisting into his ponytail, not directing, just resting, rubbing his scalp.

Heat blooms along his spine, has been this whole time, but now his neediness peaks, and Angelo aches to reach between his thighs and _touch himself_. He was trained to take his pleasure second, but as he begins to fuck his mouth on Jesse’s cock, butting against his palate, the smell of him in each breath, he finds his body difficult to ignore.

“Easy. There’s no rush.” Jesse cooes as Angelo crams his cock another inch, whimpering, wanting to bury his nose in his wiry curls and breathe, let his throat contract around his cock.

For his words, Jesse doesn’t stop him, only watches with half-lidded eyes and a lopsided grin. “How lucky you were to have this minx all to yourself, Zen.”

“I admit, I do feel an attachment to him.”

Angelo moans, nuzzling deeper, wanting to block out the sweet words, heady and distracting. Remembering soft, segmented silicone when he’s nearly swallowed all of Jesse’s cock is too much, makes him feel powerful, wanted, sinful in the best way. The feeling reaches a fever pitch as his lips finally seal around the base of Jesse's cock, knowing that Zenyatta watches him fuck his mouth, remembers what it was like with Angelo’s lips around his own.

“Damn. Wish I could take a picture.” Jesse gasps, letting Angelo suckle and shift until his fingers grasp Angelo’s hair, holding him still. “P-pull off, would ya?”

Angelo shallowly bobs on his cock with a quiet whine, finally receding, every inch of his cock wet and swollen as he lets it go, gasping for air.

Jesse captures his chin again, metal blood warm and stifling. “You’ve done so good. I wanna give you a little something too.”

Angelo nods numbly. “I...I’d like that.”

Jesse shucks his pants to the floor, then his hands return, resting on Angelo’s collarbone and dragging lower, metal and flesh tracing his exposed chest. He ignores his nipples entirely, instead pressing, feeling the swell of his pecs, pushing the muscles up and together. Only then does Jesse roll his thumbs over the barely clothed peaks. Angelo catches his gasp behind his teeth, arching into the touch.

“Feel good?” Jesse murmurs, circling each nipple pebbling through the fabric as Angelo groans and hums quietly, his cock tenting his pathetically small shorts.

Jesse slips his hands beneath the fabric, groping him, giving each nipple a hard pluck before massaging them in soft, apologetic circles.

“Ah, fuck.” Angelo gasps, his face feels on fire, nearly ill with how much it’s making him want, a sweet ache all along his front.

“Mighty fine.” Jesse says, giving each a final twist before he’s shifting up the bed, settling against the headrest. “Take everything off. Let me see you.”

Angelo glances at Zenyatta and finds his array poised directly on him, flickering at Angelo’s attention. He unbuttons his shirt as quickly as he can, clumsy and hot all over, hesitating only for a moment at his shorts. Then he tugs the fabric off, gasps as his cock slaps his stomach with a quiet tap.

“Jesus, sweetheart. Really have left ya sufferin’. C’mere.”

He nearly trips getting on the bed, slowing when he finally crawls onto Jesse. The larger man plants his hands on both sides of Jesse’s waist, holding himself up, but the gunslinger tuts, grasping his hips.

“Wanna feel ya. I won’t break. Promise.”

Angelo swallows, gingerly settling on the man’s stomach while Jesse grabs a container left on the bedside table. Jesse doesn’t have to say anything at all, the implications enough to have Angelo shifting up, angling his hips so he can reach between his legs, dipping between the tight curves of his ass.

“Oh.” Jesse murmurs, finding him soft and worked open. “Did Zen help you?”

Angelo nods, not trusting himself to speak as Jesse’s organic hand traces his hole, lube warm and so slick it almost feels ticklish, but it’s not what he feels when he pushes inside in a single, smooth press, another finger added easily a few moments later. His word narrows to the insistent shifting inside him, too much and not enough at once.

Jesse licks his lips, curling the tips of his fingers, searching, and Angelo knows, leans back and _there_ , he gasps, shifting his hips so Jesse keeps touching that spot inside him that he’s been desperate for the entire night, for weeks now.

“There?” He asks, smile lazy and deviant. “You’ve waited long enough. Gonna fuck me good, right, doctor?”

“Y-yeah.” Angelo breathes, slipping his hand between his own thighs, grasping Jesse’s dick that’s been hot and insistent against his ass ever since he crawled over him, angling it up as he arranges himself.

It feels surreal, how easy it is, sinking onto Jesse’s cock, just like training, although nothing alike. Jesse is thicker, softer everywhere, opening Angelo up like toys couldn’t, a wicked, aching slide that blurs his vision. Jesse reclines, content to watching his cock disappearing into Angelo’s body, the medic’s own twitching and leaking with each motion. He finally settles on Jesse’s hips and stills, trembling, just feeling his body crammed and claimed. Then he’s lifting up again, until only the tip is still inside, before he sinks back down, easier than before, cock slapping against Jesse’s stomach.

“There you go. Jus’ like that.” 

Jesse fishes something out of his shirt pocket. A light flares, the smell of tobacco overlaying the smell of sweat and sex.

Angelo coughs once as the smoke reaches him, fluttering into a moan as he begins to move his hips in earnest, long, slow thrusts becoming deep, rabbit bursts, little stuttering grinds that let his cock drag along Jesse’s stomach with each motion.

“You are doing so well, Angelo.” Zenyatta murmurs, too close.

Smaller, familiar hands curl around his flanks, tracing heaving muscles until they settle just around his nipples, cupping the sweat-slick flesh and teasing their perimeter.

“Lift your hips more. You will come too soon like that.”

Angelo whines, orgasm swelling dangerously fast, grinds becoming harsh staccato thrusts, loud and embarrassing, leaving no stimulation for his neglected cock that feels seconds from bursting even so.

“Jesse, please.” Angelo begs, planting his hands on his chest as the burn in his thighs heightens, needing just a little more, but the man only chuckles, taking another drag. “You gonna come before me, darlin’?”

Zenyatta’s fingers drag along the tips of Angelo’s nipples just as Jesse tightens his hold on his hips and then, more unbelievable than a dream, he _moves_.

Jesse fucks into him, burying himself with deep, desperate snaps; a scream lodges in Angelo’s throat as his orgasm rips out of him, splattering Jesse’s hirsute stomach in several mind-numbing, near painful pulses. He’s begging, but he can’t stop himself, pathetic groans and whimpers escaping as he’s pulled along, too much, too hard, Jesse swearing, hands vice-like on his skin, another pair plucking at his chest, as heat floods his insides. Jesse comes with a low, satisfied moan around his cigarillo, never quite stilling even as his thrusts slow and shorten.

“Whoops. Didn’t mean to shoot off so quickly.” 

He doesn’t sound sorry as he ashes his smoke, languidly milking the last of his orgasm, frothing the space between Angelo’s thighs. Zenyatta is the only thing keeping him upright as each obscene sound wrings shivery twinges out of his body, stomach clenching for each one, greedy for more.

He thinks Jesse will stop moving, will pull out as he catches his breath, hips twitchy and tired, but the man only watches him, absently stroking a metal finger beneath Angelo’s glans.

“Next round won’t be so quick...that I can promise.”

“N-next?” Angelo mumbles, voice lifting as Zenyatta rolls his fingers over his nipples, weak, rekindling heat warming his stomach.

“Your time is not yet up.” Zenyatta says into his back. “Perhaps a bit more hands on training is required.”

Angelo dips his head, a few strands of blonde hair obscuring his face as he finds rhythm with Jesse’s slow, even thrusts, the undeniable ghost of pleasure building in his spine.

“Yeah,” Angelo groans as Jesse wraps his hand around Angelo’s cock and Zenyatta’s fingers slip down his stomach. “I think I can manage.”


End file.
